


The Greater Good

by AceQueenKing



Category: Mighty Morphin Power Rangers, Wonder Woman - All Media Types
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Hero Complex, Mother-Son Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 08:10:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9595175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceQueenKing/pseuds/AceQueenKing
Summary: Jason and his mother have a lot in common.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VampirePaladin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampirePaladin/gifts).



Jason waited by the phone, his power morpher in his hands.

He waited uneasily. He was all too aware of the click-click-click of the clock, the silence of the house almost shocking. Dad had gone out, as he often did when Jason talked to his mother.

Mom didn't call that often. Not that she didn't want to, but there was seemingly always one crisis or another. It was the same reason she'd never come home for the holidays. His father had never forgiven her for it, but Jason, somehow, didn't mind. If his mom was out fighting evil and that's why he couldn't see her on Christmas, then he'd accepted that as worth the cost. A hero had to think of more than just their family. He understood that now better than ever.

It had still, hurt, though. He remembered each thanksgiving, each christmas, both Greek Orthodox and Roman Catholic; he remembered his father's frowning and muttering, and the empty place at the table that was always for his mother.

He hadn't told dad about the whole Power Ranger...thing. Zordon had told them not to, and he had respected that. He did not think dad would understand anyway, and would probably accuse him of making it up as a joke to make his old man laugh. Even if he could tell him, and even if dad had believed him—it wouldn't matter. Dad hadn't wanted to share his life with one hero; he wouldn't want to know he shared it with two.

The phone rang, jostling him from his thoughts. Jason leaned over, grabbing it from the cradle.

"Mom?" He asked.

"Jason." She sounded relieved. "You're okay."

"Of course I am, mom," he said, confused. "The school always makes us go into the basement during the monster attacks."

"Jason, we both know you don't go running for the basement at the first sign of trouble." She sighed, and he could almost hear her twisting the phone cord between her fingers. "I wish you took more after your father in that."

"Dad says I take after you," he said, quietly. Now that frequent exclamation was even more apt, but he didn't dare bring it up.

"I know." She laughed, and he relaxed a bit. "You were always my brave little boy. I'm not surprised Zordon saw that in you, too."

"...What?" He stared at the wall, his heart thundering. Mom had connections; he'd always known that, knew he was probably less surprised to be talked to by a giant talking head alien than any of the others. Jason had always known superheros and aliens had existed; it was hard not to, when your childhood babysitter was Clark Kent.

"Do you really think a mother doesn't recognize the sound of her son's voice?" She asked; she sounded more amused than mad, which Jason took as a good sign. Mostly. “Megazord, power up!” She said, imitating him, and he cringed, because it sounded less cool and more _supremely dorky_ when his mother said it.

“Mom...” He groaned. He wasn't sure what to say; Zordon had warned them not to reveal their powers, but he hadn't, and it wasn't his fault that his mother was a superhero amazon who evidently watched the Angel Grove news, because she didn't have enough to do in the freaking Justice League, for some reason.

“It's ok. Your secret is safe with me,” she said. She laughed, and Jason missed her, for one brief and painful moment, because he remembered when she used to laugh like that, when he was a kid and everything seemed a _lot_ simpler and it was just _cool_ that his mother was a superhero. “I won't tell your father, either.”

She sounded sour at the words _your father_ , and Jason slammed through the emotions of his childhood; remembering. There was a reason his parents had split, and a reason superheroes didn't date accountants.

“Thanks,” he said, and his voice sounded rough. He knew it did, and he didn't bother hiding it. Mom had always encouraged him to be true to himself, and there was little point not to be when said mother owned a lasso of truth. “I don't think he'd understand.”

“No, he wouldn't,” She said. There was a pause; they both said nothing. Jason felt the need to defend his father – who had raised him, mostly. He did understand his father's point, in truth; he had needed stability as a child, and he wasn't going to find it living in the justice league building. He'd had a chance to grow up normal, which was more than his mother – or just about anyone else in the Justice League, really – could say. He opened his mouth, ready to say a few words in praise of the rather blasé Erwin Scott, when his mother spoke again: “Your father has his good qualities, but he's not a very political man.”

“I don't know what the family business has to do with politics,” Jason said, frowning. This wasn't Marvel; there hadn't been a civil war between superheroes over some far-fetched government registry program. In reality, most people found it wise not to point a gun at someone who had the power to melt skyscrapers into slag with their eyeballs.

“Everything, Jason.” She scoffed. “I would think my own son would realize that.”

He frowned and bit back a retort that rose too quickly in his throat: _Maybe I would if you'd been there to teach me._

“You stand against tyranny, son. Don't ever forget that. You fight for freedom, justice. Those are your ideals. You fight so that people like your father can go to work in the morning and live normal lives, unaware how close they came to being slaves to some megalomaniac with a bad hairdo.”

“Yeah, but that's not like, politics – “

“But it _is_ , Jason. Those people seek to rule over you; you are democracy's weapon; it's only way of fighting back.” Her voice softened the blow of the lecture, and Jason closed his eyes. He missed her. He hadn't seen his mother in – how long? Years? Before he'd even gone to Angel Grove High, he remembered. He'd been nervous about making friends his freshman year.

“I miss you, mom,” he said, suddenly, and he heard the silence in the other end of the line. “It would be easier to...adjust...to this whole...thing if you were here. I feel like me and – well, everyone – we don't know what we're doing.”

There was another long pause.

“You're doing fine,” she said, eventually. Her voice sounded thick, and he wondered if she felt guilty for staying on the east coast so long, guilty for staying with the Justice League instead of her son. “All of us think that way, in the start. You stand against the bad guys. That's enough for now.”

“Can't you...” He asked, not sure what he wanted to say. He wanted her help, not just with Rita, but with life in general. And as selfish as it was to ask for it, he wanted her nearby, wanted a mom who would give him hugs on bad days and encourage him on good ones. He wanted her to embarrass him in front of his friends, to help Zordon and the rangers push back against Rita.

“Jason...” She sighed into the phone, and he could almost see her in the Justice League headquarters, her fingers wrapped up in telephone wire when she worked in a place that had sci-fi-esque technology. “I love you, son, but...”

“I love you, too,” he said, and knew he did, because his heart was aching. He didn't want to hear anymore of this, didn't want to hear the million reasons why he was being selfish to want his mother, why she had to be where she was, and why he had to be here. “I – I gotta go.”

“I understand. We'll talk soon.” She said, and sounded a bit sad, but not enough to make her want to stay. “And Jason?”

“Yeah mom?”

“Welcome to the club.” He stayed on the line as she put hers down with a definitive _click_ , and Jason sighed. He wondered how long he'd manage to live this life; he vowed that he'd hang up his cape long before his mother did – when he had children, he'd be there for them.


End file.
